


Fated from the Start

by ayyohh



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Banter, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Galentine's Day, Galentine's Day Exchange, Gen, Gift Fic, Kinda, Lilly Kane Lives, Mutual Pining, New York AU, Subway AU, The T rating leans M towards the end, all the aus, idk - Freeform, what even are tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayyohh/pseuds/ayyohh
Summary: Veronica finally gets to know the cute guy on the subway, just as her Galentine’s Day plans start to go awry...
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 24
Kudos: 80
Collections: VMFF Galentine's Day Gift Exchange





	Fated from the Start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkVoid116](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkVoid116/gifts).



> Happy Palentine's Day, Dark!! I hope you enjoy <3

* * *

Veronica shuffles over to her usual waiting spot in front of the blue-tiled ‘Eastern Parkway Brooklyn Museum’ sign. Crossing her arms, she cranes her neck to assess whether the train is close to pulling into the station. Not that there’s a point—she’ll hear it before she sees it. She’s exhausted but refuses to lean against the grimy subway wall. She checks her watch just as it hits 6:45 am.

A rumbling sound grows closer and louder, and Veronica steps forward, toward the track. The train’s speed whips her hair across her face, and she tucks a wayward strand behind her ear while waiting for it to slow down. She internally winces when the car doors stop about three feet to her left. (She likes to see how often they end up directly in front of her waiting spot. One’s mind gets accustomed to weird rituals when you take the same route to work _every morning_.) 

Loud din ringing in the air, the doors slide open and Veronica steps onto the train, determining if _her seat_ is available. (Once again—weird rituals.) She sits down beside the plastic divider at the end of the row of seats. The lunatics who decide to sit in the middle of the empty bench always weird her out—why _choose_ to eventually be squished between two strangers?

Pulling out her phone, she grabs her tangled earphones from her purse and plugs them in. She doesn’t feel like listening to her true crime podcast today, but she doesn’t want anyone to think she’s willing to communicate, either. Earbuds/conversation deterrent secure, she checks the lineup of meetings in her calendar and responds to some emails. 

After a few minutes, she spots a familiar pair of Timberlands strolling through the doors. She looks up just in time to see him sit in _his_ seat across from her. As always, they exchange a nod and a small smile before looking back down to their respective laps; her phone and his… manuscript? She wonders, once again, about the not-so-stranger that she shares her subway commute with every morning. 

Tall and brunette, he has a handsome, lean face and a muscular form. Or—at least, she _thinks_ it’s muscular. It was fall when she first saw him and now it’s the dead of winter—it’s kind of hard to sense these things from under coats. But, she figures he’s built. Not that she’s spent time imagining what he looks like under—anyways.

Over the next twenty minutes as the train grows more crowded, she prepares for her day, once or twice sneaking a glance at her travel buddy. Okay, maybe more than once or twice. His leg is crossed in the way men do, with his ankle resting on his knee. Drinking his Starbucks coffee, he studiously reviews the pile of paper in his lap, occasionally writing notes in the margins with a pen. 

His eyes lock with hers and she quickly turns her attention back to her emails. When he catches her staring—which has been often, recently—she tries not to flush, as it just indicates he looks at her as much as she looks at him.

The train approaches Park Place, and Veronica readies herself. Standing in front of the doors, her Subway Buddy takes his customary position beside her. Giving each other their patented shy smiles, she wonders what his name is. 

Jesse? Brian? Stephen? Nothing she can think of _fits._

When car doors slide open, he gestures for her to go first. Like always. Giving him a grateful nod, she starts the fast-paced march toward the stairs through the sea of people. But, as usual, his long legs pass her in no time, leaving her staring at the back of his head, until she loses sight of him in the crowd. 

She has never cursed her height more.   
  


* * *

Opening the drawer with the takeout menus, Veronica looks through them to find the one for the new vegan place down the street. Mac will make it home for dinner tonight, and they’re ordering in. Hearing her phone vibrate on the counter, Veronica glances up to see a photo from Lilly’s 25th birthday—her favourite photo of Lilly—flash on the screen, and she swipes right to answer it. 

“A week of radio silence. You better have a good excuse this time, Lils,” Veronica warns, as she props the phone between her cheek and shoulder. 

Lilly groans on the other end. “I know, I know, I’m a shitty friend. But this entrepreneurial stuff is serious business! Gotta show Celeste I mean it when I say I’m out from under her thumb.”

“Mhm.” Veronica rolls her eyes, as she shuffles through the papers. “It has nothing to do with the new beau, of course.”

Lilly squees. “You know me too well, Veronica Mars! Robert is literally the perfect specimen—it’s insane.” 

Veronica lets out a sigh but smiles despite herself. Lilly is always in such good spirits during every honeymoon phase. 

“Well, I’m happy for you both. I’d like to actually spend time with this one, you know.” Locating the menu, Veronica places the rest back in the drawer before closing it. “And I don’t just mean for fifteen minutes at a party before you drag him back to your place.”

“Yeah... for sure.”

“Lilly?” Veronica frowns. She’s known Lilly for too long. There’s something else. “Spit it out.”

A beat goes by. Two. “Robert wants to take me to his house in the Hamptons! Isn’t that fabulous?”

“Super fabulous.” Veronica furrows her brows and leans back against the counter. 

“It’s just—well… he wants to go over Valentine’s Day weekend.” 

“Lil!” Veronica growls, her head dropping back and her eyes sewn shut. “ _You_ were the one who convinced _me_ to host Galentine’s day again this year.”

“I know! And I suck, but since Valentine’s falls on a Saturday, it’s just too perfect for a romantic weekend getaway.”

“So leave Saturday morning and you’ll still be able to join Galentine’s on Friday.”

“He wants to leave Friday morning so we can spend as much time together away as possible.”

“You’re already going to Aspen together over Christmas in literally two weeks!” 

“Veronica,” Lilly begins, a teasing tone in her voice. “When you find that _special someone,_ you just want to be with them all the time.”

Veronica huffs out a laugh. Lilly is the last person to get attached. “Spare me, Lils.”

Lilly’s airy giggle rings through the phone. “Okay, so it’s no love connection, but he’s hot and great in the sack. The conversation isn’t bad either.”

“Wow, you’re actually having conversations?”

“I know you’re mad at me, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better—or else I’ll show Robert that picture from sixth grade with your overbite and unibrow.”

“Oooh, Veronica Mars, are you blackmailing me? I like it!” Lilly makes a sound that’s probably meant to resemble an angry feline. 

“How do you even know you’ll be together in two months?”

“Veronica, he wants to take me to his _house in the Hamptons._ We’re going to be together in two months.”

Veronica puts her palm to her face, shaking her head. 

Lilly continues. “You’re still gonna host right? It’s tradition! It’ll be fun just the five of you.”

“But who's going to teach us how to do a striptease that’ll leave their ‘cock as hard as a rock?’”

“What can I say, some people are just irreplaceable,” Lilly drawls, and Veronica can envision her winking. 

* * *

Veronica spots the familiar Timberlands from the corner of her eye, but their owner halts quickly, hesitating. She glances up to see her Subway Buddy scan his occupied spot across from her––and all the other occupied spots for that matter. The only empty seat is beside her. She smiles and shifts closer to the plastic divider—even though there’s really nowhere to shift to—indicating that he’s welcome to sit down.

Running his hand through his hair, he strides toward her and perches on the hard blue plastic, returning her smile. Veronica takes a risk and pulls out an earbud. 

“Welcome to the dark side,” she greets in a low voice, jerking her head across the aisle towards his usual seat.

He lets out a surprised laugh—at what she said or that she’s speaking to him at all, she’s not sure—and replies, “The air _does_ seem thicker over here. I guess I’ll just have to slum it for today.”

His voice is deeper than she imagined, but still has an airy quality to it. A sweet undertone.

“You’re lucky we’re even letting you in the club.” She clicks her tongue. “The leader is kind of a hardass and tough to impress.”

His eyes are bright as he retorts, “Guess I better be grateful.”

“Guess so.” She shrugs teasingly.

He turns a little more fully to her. “I’m Logan, by the way. In case the leader needs to know these kinds of things.”

 _Logan_. It _fits_.

She purses her lips to stop them from curving upward. “I’ll let them know.” Raising his brows, he lowers his head to indicate she should continue. She points to herself. “Veronica.”

“Veronica,” he repeats, almost like he wants to try it out himself. “Well, it’s nice to finally make your acquaintance, Veronica.”

Gazing into the chocolate brown eyes that she’s looked at just about a hundred times before, she concludes they’re way, _way_ prettier up close.

“Nice to finally meet you too, Logan.”

* * *

“He didn’t even apologize afterward,” Mac complains around a mouthful of General Tso’s tofu. “It’s almost like he gets off on bothering me. He’s such an asshole.”

Veronica grabs the box of the vegetable lo mein. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but it sounds like Brad’s pulling your proverbial pigtails.”

Pausing with the chopsticks halfway to her mouth, Mac levels Veronica with a glare. “Um, no.”

Veronica finishes chewing and mumbles, “M’kay, whatever you say.”

Mac puts down her container, sighing heavily. “So, Randall told me there’s this huge tech summit that I need to go to.”

“That’s great, isn’t it? I feel like they wouldn’t send you if they weren’t impressed with your performance so far.”

“Yeah, it’s actually an awesome opportunity.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Veronica replies while grabbing the sweet and sour chicken. “Why don’t you sound happy about it?”

Mac hesitates. “Well, it’s February fourteenth and fifteenth…”

“Oookay.” Veronica makes a circular gesture with her hand. “And?”

“And it’s in San Francisco.”

_Oh._

Veronica closes her eyes momentarily, scrunching her nose. “It’s fine.”

“Really? Because Lilly said you kinda reamed her out two weeks ago—”

“I reamed Lilly out because she was the one who convinced me to throw Galentine’s again this year, and she’s ditching to go galavanting with her beau-du-jour.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Do I look mad?” Pasting a huge grin on her face, Veronica blinks her eyes rapidly.

Mac cracks a smile. “Promise?”  
  
Veronica shifts forward to put her hand on Mac’s knee. “This is, like, an insane opportunity for you. Who cares about Galentine’s Day! You go kick ass in San Fran.”

Mac smiles gratefully, looking as though a weight was dropped off her shoulders. She grabs the carton of mixed vegetables. “Now, if only _Brad_ wasn’t going, too…”

* * *

“It’s no fair. You read manuscripts for a living!”

“Hey, you knew that when you agreed to the Words With Friends matchup.” 

Logan’s right, so Veronica has no comeback. She lamely sticks her tongue out at him.

“A better man would probably let you win so that you’re not as grumpy every time I see you,” Logan mumbles. He shifts his body toward her, open manuscript all but forgotten in his lap. “Too bad I have low morals,” he says while bobbing his brows.

“Nuh-uh,” Veronica shakes her head, her hand still clutching her unused earbuds. “I wouldn’t want that, anyway. When I beat you, I want to do it fair and square—that way you can’t lord it over my head.”

“Remind me to check my dictionary when I get home.”

She gives him a side-eyed glance. “Why?”

“So that I can see if there’s _actually_ a picture of you when I look up the word ‘competitive,’” Logan replies, tilting his head.

Veronica smiles sweetly. “What can I say? I like to win.”

“Says the Mets fan.”

“I said _I_ like to win, but I’m a sucker for the underdog.” She narrows her eyes and pokes him lightly. “Besides, you probably just root for the Yankees because JLo roots for the Yankees.”

“Haven’t you heard? What JLo says is gospel!” He blinks innocently. “Also, it doesn’t hurt that they… hmm, what’s the word? Oh—right. _Win._ ”

Opening her mouth to retort, Veronica is cut off by a message on the loudspeaker, indicating the train will be stopping due to an issue at a station ahead.

Logan and Veronica both deflate and try to get more comfortable. Logan leans his head back against the train window behind his seat, and Veronica does the same. “Of course the one day I schedule an early morning meeting, there’s a delay. I better not be late.”

Logan turns to look at her, head still resting on the glass. “Too bad your legs aren’t—”

She puts up a finger to stop him. “I _know_ you were not about to make a short joke.”

Logan mimes zipping up his mouth, and Veronica pulls out her phone, mentally drafting an email to Jessica to warn her she won’t make it on time.

Logan works in the same building as Veronica, and while the challenge of keeping up with him has made her six minute walk into four, she still thinks she’ll be late. 

“I’m just saying,” Logan starts up again, breaking her out of her reverie. “If you want to be on time, I could just throw you over my shoulder and make a run for—”

Putting a hand over his mouth, she cuts Logan off. She instantly feels his wet tongue touch her palm and pulls it back, squealing, “Ew! Are you twelve?” Other commuters shoot them dirty looks due to her loud outburst.

Both laughing, she wipes her palm on his thigh, belatedly realizing that might be an inappropriate place to touch. But he _licked her,_ so she's not quite sure where the line is anymore.

“You’re disgusting. Do you know what kind of subway germs could be on my hands right now?” She scolds, wiggling her fingers as if he could see the bacteria.

“I know, but it was so worth it. You should have seen your face!” He wears a goofy smile and she can’t help but mirror his expression.

“Jackass.”

* * *

“Veronica?”

Veronica ambles over to the pickup counter and grabs the two piping beverages, carefully placing them each in a cardboard sleeve. Slowly walking over to where Meg sits—she was able to nab the final empty table—she deposits her coffee while dropping into the seat across her.

Veronica opens the lid of her drink to help it cool down quicker, and Meg does the same. “Anyways,” Veronica says. “What were you talking about?”

“Oh, just damn staff room politics.” Bringing the cup up to her lips, Meg blows on the hot liquid. “Helen is being a bitch and refusing to share any of her resources with me, even though I shared all mine with her when she was hired.”

“Helen sucks.”

“She does. She calls me “M” for short just to bother me. Is Meg that long of a name that she can’t say it?” Meg picks up her lid and fidgets with it. “So, Duncan found out Lilly is skipping Galentine’s. What’s this one’s name? Ryan? Roland?”

Veronica snorts. “Robert. He’s ‘the perfect specimen,’ apparently.”

“Hope she has better luck with this one than the last,” Meg replies, wincing.

“Lilly won’t have luck with any of them until she actually _wants_ to.”

“Well, like I was saying, Duncan found out Lilly was going to the Hamptons in a month,” Meg continues, looking at Veronica intently.

“And let me guess. The Donut got jealous and made a big deal?”

“He surprised me with plane tickets to Napa for the weekend,” Meg admits, biting her lip. “I got really upset with him, because he knows how important Galentine’s is to me, but they’re non-refundable.”

 _He probably did that on purpose,_ Veronica thinks unkindly. She tries to mentally block out the three months she dated him junior year in high school.

Veronica sighs heavily. “Another one bites the dust.”

“But Mac was saying maybe we can join in on Zoom for a bit, to keep the tradition alive! I thought that was such a fun idea.”

“Meg,” Veronica starts, tracing the green emblem on her cup. “Don’t you think it’s silly to host a big thing just for me, Parker and Jackie? I feel like this is a sign it just shouldn’t happen this year.”

“No!,” Meg blurts, hand reaching out as if to physically stop Veronica from that thought. “Come on. We’ve done this every February thirteenth since senior year in high school, and I refuse for this to be the end. If we could do it that year Parker was vomiting uncontrollably, we can do it this year.”

Veronica hangs her head momentarily in dramatic fashion. “Fine. But only because you asked nicely.”

Shoulders dropping, Meg smiles. “Good.” She tentatively tastes her coffee to test the temperature. “So, Jackie told me about this subway guy. Spill.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. Her friends are too gossipy for their own good. She slowly replaces the lid on her coffee cup and takes a leisurely sip to bide time.

What is there to say?

* * *

Logan hands her the hot beverage, taking his customary seat beside her as the subway doors close. He places his briefcase between his feet, not even bothering to take out a manuscript anymore—just like she doesn’t bother with her earphones.

“Mmm,” she hums, wrapping her hands around the cup. “Thank you. Lunch today? My treat. I owe you.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Once more for those in the back—you don’t owe me anything.”

“You know that’s not how it works in my books,” Veronica reminds him, nudging him playfully. “And you’ve rebuffed all my sly attempts to stick cash in your pockets. Ergo—lunch. That taco place, or that gross salad joint you love?”

Logan drops his mouth open in mock offense. “I will have you know that eating vegetables happens to be good for you.” He pauses. “I read about it once.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she says sarcastically, as he takes a daring sip of his scalding drink. “How’s pretension in a cup, today?”

“It’s delicious, thank you.”

Clearing her throat, Veronica lowers her voice in imitation. “Uh, yeah. I’ll have a venti soy latte, with only half soy, two pumps vanilla, sugar-free, caramel drizzle, no foam, shaken not stirred.”

Logan purses his lips in refusal to smile. “Now you’re making stuff up.”

“Pleaaase,” Veronica begs, pouting. “Tell me just once more.”

Logan sighs, shaking his head. “The pouting won’t work on me this time.”

Raising her brows, she accepts the challenge. She tilts her head, looking at him through her lashes. 

He closes his eyes momentarily. “Venti caffè misto, non-fat milk, extra shot, no foam, extra hot, light room.”

“Hey!” Veronica grins wide. “I got the no foam part right!”

“Well, why the hell would anybody want to waste four precious sips on _foam_ instead of _coffee?_ ”

“Says the guy who asks for room in his cup.”

“Um, moving subway?” He points all around them. “Nobody wants a sloshing drink. Do you not _remember_ what happened to you last week?”

“The lid wasn’t on properly!”

“Mhm, and how much did that peacoat cost to dry clean?”

Veronica flips Logan off, and he laughs, taking another drag of his coffee. She uses it as an opportunity to look him over. God, he’s cute. Maybe it’s just because she hasn’t been on a date in ages, but she’s somehow ridiculously affected by his charm, even though she’s usually bored or indifferent with most men. 

He peeks at her from the side of his eye and she—embarrassingly—flushes, so she busies herself by gingerly taking a taste of her drink. 

“You can’t hide that look from me, Mars,” Logan chides, leaning closer to her. “Don’t be jealous of my venti caffè misto, non-fat milk, extra shot, no foam, extra hot, light room.”

Veronica swats at him to cover her embarrassment. Yeah. That’s what she was staring at.

“Sorry, not pretentious enough for me. I mean, where’s the pump of vanilla?”

Elbowing her in the side with a smile, Logan shifts a little to get comfortable. “So, you excited to see your dad this weekend?”

Veronica’s face falls, and Logan’s expression grows concerned. “He can’t come anymore,” Veronica admits.

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Logan frowns. “I know how much you were looking forward to seeing him.”

Logan places his arm on the top of her seat behind her, not quite touching, but enough of a comforting gesture that she leans towards him a little.

“Yeah—it sucks. But this new case came up and he just can’t get away. We’re going to see if he can come in a few weeks, it’s just such a far drive that it’s hard to reschedule.”

“Well, the Sheriff’s department seems to be a hopping place in Onondagger.”

Veronica’s lips curve upward. “Where now?”

Logan furrows his brows. “Onon—Onon… Oh, shut up.”

Laughing into her cup, Veronica takes a thoughtful sip. “How’s Trina?” She knows better than to ask about his parents.

“She sent me a postcard from Montpellier this week.”

“Two postcards in one month!” Veronica exclaims, nudging Logan. “Looks like you’re moving up the ranks.”

Logan puts a hand to his chest, wiping a fake tear with the other. “I’d like to thank god and my agent for this incredible honour.”

“Umm, hello?” Veronica throws her hand up. “You’re forgetting someone.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “Oh, you’re right.” He gives her a shit eating grin. “My third grade teacher, Mrs. Moskovitz. She said I was destined for greatness.”

Levelling him with a glare, Veronica narrows her eyes. “I was thinking more like, your smartest, funniest, prettiest, blondest friend.”

Logan taps his finger to his chin in mock thought. “Yeah, no, not ringing any bells.”

“Just for that, no lunch at the rabbit food place.”

“It’s called _lettuce!_ It’s _good for you!_ ”

* * *

Wiping her face with a towel, Veronica’s phone rings in the bedroom. Shuffling to answer it, she doesn’t even have time to say hello before Parker cuts her off.

“I met the perfect guy!”

Rolling her eyes, Veronica is instantly grateful this isn’t an in-person conversation, so Parker didn’t see. Walking back to the bathroom, Veronica replies, “Well, good evening to you, too! That’s exciting.”

“It is! We have so much in common,” Parker boasts. “He’s kind and witty. He loves music and pop culture. I think he could be The One—capital T and O.”

Veronica puts her phone on the counter, clicking the speaker button and grabbing her moisturizer. “Parker,” Veronica sighs, “you think _all_ of them could be the one.”

“No, that’s because I’ve gotten too attached, too quickly before.”

“And this isn’t that?”

“No, Stosh and I—”

“Sorry, what? What the hell is a Stosh?”

“It’s European! … Or something,” Parker mumbles. “Better than the nickname he said his friends call him.”

What could possibly be a worse name, Veronica has no idea.

“ _Anyway,_ as I was saying. I met him two months ago on Tinder and we’ve been talking this whole time—I haven’t wanted to mention anything in case I jinx it. But V, we stay up late and chat for hours. He just _gets_ me. And gosh, he looks so cute in his picture.”

“His… picture?” Taking off her headband, Veronica pauses. “Parker, please tell me you aren’t pining over some guy you’ve never even met.”

“Umm, that’s rich, Ms. I’m-obsessed-with-this-random-subway-dude.”

Veronica’s jaw drops open. “Okay, I’m literally never telling any of you guys _anything,_ ever again.”

“Veronica,” Parker pleads, “I know you’re sceptical, okay? But, can’t you just be happy for me? Don’t I deserve to have someone who makes me happy?”

Veronica’s heart breaks. Ever since her breakup with Jack, Parker has been so unlucky in love. 

“Of course you do. Ignore me.” Veronica returns to her bedroom and sits on her bed. “You know how I am—cynical by nature.”

“You’re just looking out for me, and I love you for it.”

“So, anyway,” Veronica blows past the lovey-dovey stuff Parker always seems to throw into conversations. “Why haven’t you met him if you’ve been speaking for two months? Does he live out of state?”

“No, ugh,” Parker groans. “We keep having to cancel our dates! It’s been _so_ frustrating! His work, and my work, and the holidays with family.“

Veronica frowns. “That sucks, I’m sorry, girl.”

“Well, actually”—Parker’s voice becomes too chipper for Veronica’s liking—“we _finally_ found a date that works! Can you believe it?”

Veronica sighs. Getting up, she starts walking back and forth in the small space. “Let me guess. February thirteenth?”

“I’m sooo sorry,” Parker cries. “I swear, I feel so crazy guilty.”

“I just don’t get it. You can’t find _any_ day that works for you guys in the next two weeks, other than that?”

“Nothing! Otherwise, the next possibility isn’t until March! Also, did I mention it’s been _two months_? A girl’s got needs, you know?”

“This is just dumb. I’m not hosting when—”

“Oh, come on, Veronica! Jackie _finally_ got a babysitter. She’s been looking forward to this—you can’t do that to her.”

Stopping her pacing, Veronica scrunches her nose, realizing that Parker is right. 

“And since, you know, I’m hoping to be otherwise _occupied,_ that night,” Parker confides, very heavy with innuendo, “we’ll do the Zoom call Saturday morning. I already set it up with the other girls.”

“Everyone already knows? Why am I last?”

“V, I love you, but you’re kinda scary sometimes.”

Veronica shrugs. She’s okay with that.

* * *

“Being strapped on an ant-hill.”

“Making out with a broken bottle.”

“Getting a root canal.”

“You know, I’ve actually gotten a root canal before, and it wasn’t too bad!”

Veronica and Logan stand in front of each other, squished by fellow commuters. They’re brainstorming things they would rather do than have to stand on the subway in a packed car. There’s a reason they always catch an early train—they just got unlucky today.

(Well, okay. If she’s being honest, there _was_ one seat left when she got on this morning. But it would have been awkward to talk with Logan if he was standing and she was sitting, right? She offered it to someone else before they approached Logan’s station.)

“Oh, hey,” Logan says after he sips his coffee. “How did Jamie like that write-up?”

Veronica holds her venti dark roast in one hand, and hangs on tight to the pole with the other. She’s not tall enough for the handles above them. Something Logan was sure to make fun of her for. “She thought it was fine.”

Logan bends his knees to look in her eyes. “Fine?”

Veronica huffs. “She thought it was great, okay?” 

“See!” Logan grins wide, shaking his head. She hates that she adores his smile so much. “You should always listen to me. _Always._ ”

“Uh oh.” Veronica winces, pointedly looking at Logan’s head from different angles. “Time to make an appointment to go see the doctor.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “And why might that be?”

“Because your head just grew three sizes, and I don’t know how to shrink it.”

“You’re in a constant state of shrinking my ego, because you still haven’t accepted my Facebook friend request.”

“Oh my god,” Veronica groans, dropping her head back. “This again? Listen to me carefully. Nobody. Uses. Facebook. Anymore.”

Logan pouts. “Don’t you want to tell everyone that we’re friends?”

“Um, we are friends. _In person._ Which is what actually counts.”

Logan makes a face at her, and she continues. “And, like I said, I never go on, so there’s no point.”

He doesn’t have to know that she sometimes visits the site just to see his profile picture. Only, like, really late at night. Or, if he doesn’t go in to work with her. Or… yeah.

The train starts slowing at Fulton Street, and she grips the pole tighter. 

“All I’m saying is,” Logan argues, “you’re really missing out.”

“I’m good, thanks. Anyways, Facebook was always on my shit list because people kept ‘poking’ me.” And because Logan is twelve, Veronica already knows she left one over the plate.

Logan’s eyes are bright as he leans in. “Well, I hear _poking_ people can be _really_ satisfying.”

“You know, if you’re _poking_ women, Logan, I don’t think you’re doing it right.”

“Trust me, Veronica,” Logan leers, “I’m doing it right.”

At that moment, the train lurches violently while leaving the station, and Veronica stumbles forward—straight into Logan’s chest. His very firm chest. That’s now wet from her spilled coffee.

Logan catches her quickly, which, if she’s being honest, is quite a feat, considering he had to let go of the handle above him and has his own half-empty drink in his other hand. 

Slow to move, Veronica breathes in deeply. His scent surrounds her. Looking up at him, she realizes they’re inches apart—so close, they could kiss. Arms tightening slightly around her, he gazes into her eyes with a small smile.

“Is this where you swoon and call me your hero?”

Pulling back, she chuckles nervously. “You wish—don’t need your head growing _four_ times as large.”

“If only you were tall enough to reach the—”

“Shut it, Echolls,” she jokes, until she remembers the wet stain on his jacket and points. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Looking down at his chest, he starts laughing. “Is this your schtick now? Spilling your coffee on the subway?” He swats a bit at the fabric, assessing the situation.

Which makes Veronica stare at his upper body, and—oh god, she flushes thinking about him holding her moments ago. Why does he scramble her brain?

“I mean, I know you’re jealous of my Starbucks order, but you don’t have to _spill yours out_ to make a point.”

“Alright, lay it on me. How long is this going to be a running joke for?”

“Oh man, I’m just getting started,” Logan brags, bobbing his brows. Which—fuck. Her palms are sweaty.

Thankfully, the train starts slowing for their destination, and gives Veronica a distraction from being so flustered. 

“Come on,” Veronica mutters. “You can make fun of me while we find you some napkins.”

* * *

The first thing Veronica hears through the phone is a wailing toddler. 

“Jacks?”

“V, sorry girl,” Jackie apologizes. “Give me a sec.”

There’s shuffling and cooing on the other end, before the crying stops. 

“Don’t worry. Drew not happy tonight, huh?”

“What do you say, Andrew? Wanna say hi to Auntie V?” Jackie asks sweetly to the child she probably holds in her arms, before sighing. “Not happy is an understatement.”

“What’s up?” Veronica prompts, as she puts the key in the lock of her apartment. “You sounded frustrated in your text.”

“Drew is sick. I don’t think I can leave him with the sitter tomorrow.”

“Oh noo,” Veronica groans. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hate to cancel, but I—”

“Hey,” Veronica scolds, closing the door and throwing her purse on the kitchen counter. “Your kid needs you, never apologize for that. Why don’t we move the ‘party’ over to you so we can still hang out?”

“No, no. Not a good idea,” Jackie insists. “Last time he got the flu from daycare, it was a pretty gruesome strain. I don’t want you to catch it.”

“So much for Galentine’s day, huh?” Veronica leans back on the island. “I’m telling you, it was written in the stars—not supposed to happen this year.”

“I could have really used it, too. Hopefully he’s feeling better by Saturday morning so I can join you girls on that Zoom call.” 

Veronica laughs. “Yep, the ‘let’s-let-Parker-get-laid’ rescheduled Zoom call.”

“Hey, now,” Jackie lets out a chuckle. “At least she’s _actually_ getting some, unlike us.”

Sighing, Veronica has to agree. “Got me there.”

“Anyways, I’ve gotta go deal with the mister, here, just wanted to keep you updated.”

“Yeah, yeah, go. We’ll speak Saturday.”

They say their goodbyes, and, as Veronica takes off her jacket, she can’t help but think about getting laid. By someone with a firm chest. 

* * *

The train slows down at Borough Hall, and Veronica’s stomach does a little flip in anticipation of seeing Logan. 

_Since when does it do that? Shit._

She needs to get this crush under control.

The doors open and… Logan doesn’t amble in. That’s weird. He always texts Veronica when he’s not going into work. He must be running late.

The next couple of seconds are anguished. What does she do? Should she just message him to say have a good day, or should she…

Before she can fully comprehend what she’s doing, Veronica jolts out of her seat and jumps out onto the platform, the closing doors missing her by inches. 

Looking behind her, the weight of her decision finally dawns on her. Is this weird? Her waiting for him? What if he isn’t late and he’s just not coming? As the train starts slowly moving, Veronica leans against a post and starts berating herself.

_God, Veronica, way to be a creeper. He’s going to think you’re the world’s biggest stalker and—_

At that moment, Logan appears, with a coffee in each hand, hustling down the stairs—looking towards the exiting train with desperation and despair. Realizing he missed it, he breathes in deeply and slows down, hanging his head as he finishes the last few steps. 

It’s not until he’s a few feet in front of her that he notices she’s there. He does a double take, and his face lights up. He looks… relieved. 

“What—”

“You didn’t text me, so I didn’t know—”

“Yeah, my damn pretentious coffee order took longer than usual today.” He looks at her with wonder and a shy smile.

That flip in her belly intensifies—there might as well be a circus performer inside. The air between them seems electric and she wonders if he feels it too. 

She bites her lip, pointing to the object in his hand. “Is that for me?” 

Never tearing his gaze from her, Logan hands her the coffee cup, and quietly sips his own.

“This is your platform, huh?” She asks, trying to move toward more comfortable territory. “I’m partial to mine, but I guess it’s okay.”

“Why, thanks, I built it myself,” he jokes, smirking.

Loud screeching sounds fill the air, and Logan and Veronica turn toward the track. His arm brushes hers and her heartbeat kicks up a notch. 

The train slips into the station, whipping past them, and Veronica closes her eyes, imagining a different scenario where she and Logan would be entering the subway in the morning together.

_Easy, girl._

Their customary seats are taken, but they find a couple empty ones a bit farther into the car. 

“So, Jackie cancelled, too.”

Raising his eyebrows, Logan lets out a huff of laughter. “Are you serious? Wow, you weren’t kidding about this thing being fated to go to the shitter.”

“Right?” Veronica complains, shaking her head. “At least I’ll have snacks and alcohol to wallow in tonight.” 

“You should go out and do something fun,” Logan insists, turning in his seat to face her. “All your friends have these other plans—you shouldn’t stay home alone.”

“Um, you’re forgetting one very important issue.”

“And what’s that?”

“I don’t _have_ any other friends.”

“Hey!” Pulling his head back, Logan’s jaw drops and he puts his hand on his chest, offended. “Unless I’ve been texting a stranger for almost two months, you better take that back.”

“Aside from _you,_ of course!”

Opening his mouth to say something, Logan hesitates for a moment before replying, “So then, what about me? Ask me what I’m doing tonight.”

Veronica throws him an unimpressed look. After a few seconds, Logan waves his hand in a ‘stop’ gesture, exclaiming, “Okay, already! Enough with the begging! I’m free tonight.”

Veronica bites the inside of her cheek to calm down her racing thoughts. Is he… no. This is not a date. This is just friends hanging together.

“And what do you propose we do tonight?”

“I don’t know, what do you girls normally do?” Eyes widening, Logan leers at her. “Pillow fights and practice makeouts? Because… I could be persuaded.” 

“Wouldn’t you love to know,” she responds, even though she can feel her face heating up.

“No, but really,” Logan continues. “I know I’m not a _‘gal,’_ but—” Logan’s face lights up like he’s thought of something brilliant, and he grins. “But I am your _‘pal’._ ”

Veronica unsuccessfully stifles her laugh, and Logan smiles wider at her reaction. “Palentine’s Day, if you will.”

She purses her lips, in mock thought. Because—of course she’s not turning this down. For all the texting and commuting and lunching they’ve done, Veronica and Logan haven’t hung out after hours. And boy, does she want to.

“So, what do you say?” Logan asks, looking at her intently. If she didn’t know better, she would say he looked anxious.

She shrugs noncommittally. “Sure, why not?”

“Gee, don’t sound too excited.”

Veronica makes her voice high pitched and cheery. “Sure, why not?”

Logan leans back in his seat, rolling his eyes. “Your place around six? Text me the address. I’ll bring pizza.”

“Uhh, absolutely not,” she challenges, holding up her index finger. “I’ll get the pizza. Considering you didn’t let me pay for your drycleaning, this is the least I could do.”

“Fine, but then I’m bringing dessert.” 

She could never fight him on dessert, and Logan knows it, sporting a smug smile.

“So, what’s the dress code? Pyjamas, right?” Logan rakes his eyes up and down her body. “The skimpier the better?”

She’s not imagining this, right? He’s totally flirting—right?

_Two can play at this game._

“Why don’t you show up and see—pal.” Logan probably wasn’t expecting that, because his lips part slightly, before turning into a smirk. 

Veronica absolutely does not think about that smirk for the rest of the day. Nope.

* * *

Ensuring the bowls of snacks haven’t moved since the last time she checked about three minutes ago, she also opens the fridge to make sure—yep, the beer hasn’t gone anywhere either.

Checking her watch—quarter to six—Veronica starts redecorating, picking up and moving things two inches away. Repositioning the napkins for the fourth time, she groans.

“Snap out of it, Mars.”

Surveying the apartment, Veronica nods and decides to just _chill_ until he gets there. This isn’t the Queen of England, this is Logan. Logan Echolls. The man she sees every workday. The man she talks to every day. Her friend. Her _pal._

Flipping on her bedroom light, she checks herself out in her full-length mirror one last time. Her eyes are drawn to the discarded items strewn about her room—the items that she frantically tried on before settling on her current outfit.

Yoga pants, a long sleeve tee, and fuzzy socks. Casual, cozy, cute. 

(Okay, so her brain thought of an alliteration of adjectives for her outfit. She’s kind of going crazy.)

Wading through her abandoned wardrobe to head back to the kitchen, she hesitates.

She picks up the clothes from the floor to tidy up, just in case. In case… in case she gives him a tour. Yes. Just like why she shaved her legs. In case she got hot and needed to change into shorts. Yes.

As she’s about to sit down on the couch, she hears a knock. Gulping, she walks toward the door and opens it to reveal Logan, grinning. He rakes his eyes over her.

 _Casual, cute, cozy._ It helps that it’s form-fitting. But that doesn’t fit with the alliteration. 

“How did you—”

“Someone was walking out when I was walking in.”

“And they let you in? Jeez.”

“Right? Shoddy security around here.”

“Well, it’s not _Brooklyn Heights_ or anything.”

They stand smiling at each other for a few seconds, before she realizes she hasn’t even invited him in. Stepping back, she gestures into the apartment.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

Turning in a circle, Logan studies her place with bright eyes. “I like it. Very _you._ ”

While trying to decipher what he means, he lifts up a couple shopping bags in his hands and bellows, “I come bearing dessert!”

Veronica claps excitedly, and he laughs as he launches into his most impressive game show host voice. 

“In bag number one,” he starts, indicating to the options he put on the counter, “we have a fine selection of fudgy brownies, gummy worms and chopped nuts.”

“Umm, I told you I had snacks covered, you said—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Logan scolds, wagging his finger. “You didn’t let me finish. In bag number two, we have Veronica’s favourite dessert.”

“Ice cream!” Veronica exclaims, peeking inside. “But, does he remember which flavour…”

With a flourish, he pulls out a tub of Rocky Road. Giving him a soft smile, she leans on the counter and puts her chin in her hand. He returns the expression, and pulls out a couple more containers. 

“I got a few options. And I thought we could make sundaes with those toppings. So—verdict?”

Veronica taps her finger to her chin. “Nine out of ten.”

“Nine?” Logan repeats, dumbfounded. 

“Dessert is serious business!

“I got your favourite ice cream and brought toppings for sundaes. How could I have made this better?” 

She slowly moves to grab the ice cream from him, brushing her fingers against his purposefully as she does. Placing them in the freezer, she looks at him over her shoulder to see him checking out her ass, and quips, “You could have worn your skimpy pyjamas.”

Logan lets out a huff of laughter and takes a few steps towards her, leaning his elbow on the island. “I wasn’t sure you were ready for this jelly.”

She stands in front of him, mirroring his position. “Is your body too bootylicious for me?”

“Yep. Mine and Beyoncé’s.”

Walking toward her cellphone near the couch, she retorts, “That’s some really good company you keep.” 

Turning back to him, she sees his eyes on her ass again.

_Guess he thinks my body is bootylicious, too._

“Let’s order the pizza?”

* * *

“What a classic.”

The credits of _Dirty Harry_ play, as Veronica and Logan sip their beers on the couch. He faces the TV, while she sits perpendicular to him, her toes staying toasty under his thighs.

“Okay, I humoured you, now you have to watch something of my choosing,” Veronica insists, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Logan narrows his eyes at her. “How bad is it going to be?”

“Do ya feel lucky, punk?” she quotes, giving him her most mocking smoulder.

Logan’s head falls back. “You butchered the line!” he groans.

“To-may-toe, to-mah-toe.” She sets her bottle on the glass coffee table beside the empty pizza box. “I say we grab some nine-out-of-ten dessert before we start the next one.”

Logan follows her into the kitchen, reclining against the counter again—damn him and his leaning. 

Veronica tries not to stare at him. It’s not often that she sees him without a coat—only when they grab lunch at a restaurant instead of a food truck. Even then, she’s never seen him wear a tight v-neck tee that hugs every muscle in his chest. Those same muscles she remembers feeling when he caught her on the subway. Rubbing her sweaty palms on her leggings, she heads towards the fridge.

“You’re stalling. What movie are you going to force me to watch?”

“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking.” Opening the freezer to collect the ice cream, Veronica sweeps her hand in the air in front of her. “Early 2000s classic.”

“Hmm. I could get behind that. Eurotrip?”

Veronica snorts, grabbing two spoons from the drawer.

“Van Wilder? American Pie?”

Laughing, Veronica checks the cupboard for bowls. “I’m sorry, did I say we were going to watch a teenage boy’s jerk-off lineup?”

Logan shrugs, unfazed. “Hey, _you_ said early 2000s classic. Can’t help that I was a horny teenage boy then.”

“Yeah, I was thinking more like _Josie and The Pussycats,_ ” she replies, opening another cupboard.

Logan rolls his eyes. “A chick flick? That’s what you’re following up with after the sacred _Dirty Harry?_ ”

“A chick flick?” Veronica repeats, opening the dishwasher and peeking inside. “You are really underestimating it. Satire? Government conspiracy? Collusion? Plus, I figure you can just drool over Tara Reid the whole time.”

“I do love beautiful blondes.”

Looking into Logan’s eyes, Veronica feels butterflies in her stomach. His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, the air changing between them. 

Not sure he means what she thinks he means, she blurts out, “No bowls!”

Logan looks dazed for a second before shaking his head a bit. “What?”

“Mac and I aren’t the greatest at actually putting the dishwasher on, so I think our hopes of sundaes are dashed, because I’m way too lazy to do any washing,” Veronica says apologetically. She throws a finger in the air in an ‘aha’ gesture. “But! Do you know what the next best thing is?”

Logan tilts his head, amused. Veronica peels off the lid of the Rocky Road tub and jabs two spoons into it. “Voila!”

“Our own makeshift bowl, who needs those glass things, anyway?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

After putting the other flavours away, Veronica and Logan get comfortable on the couch. It just so happens that in order to share the ice cream, they need to sit closer together than they were before. Logan holds the tub on his thigh, in between himself and Veronica.

Veronica gets the movie ready on the streaming service while alternating samples of the dessert with Logan. Teasingly bumping knees while they snack, their arms brush against each other, setting off goosebumps.

“Hey!” Veronica eclaims. “I was going for that bite!”

“Stay on your own side!” Logan warns, clinking his spoon against hers in battle.

She sticks her tongue out at him, and purposefully goes for a particularly appetizing section in the container—on ‘his side’.

Before she can eat it, he grabs her hand and quickly reroutes the spoon into his mouth. 

Her mouth opens in a breathless laugh, swatting at him as he grins wide.

“Just for that,” she informs him, holding the remote back up to the TV, “we are going to watch the chick-iest chick flick _ever._ ”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Putting the tub on the coffee table in front of them, Logan moves to grab the remote from her.

She squeals and turns away from him, trying to shift it out of his grasp. Of course, his arms are much longer than hers, and he grabs it easely, holding it high over his head, out of reach. 

Both laughing fully now, Veronica climbs on him to steal it back. After a few seconds, their positioning registers in her brain, and she looks down at their bodies.

Veronica straddles Logan, his hand on her thigh, hers on his chest. His smile disappears, too, a smoldering gaze taking over. He slowly lowers his arm, placing the remote beside them, never taking his eyes off her. He holds her chin, and gently brings her face towards his.

Their mouths meet in a searing kiss, two months of pent up desire seeping through. Pulling back, his eyes are dark and his breath laboured when he mutters, “Finally.” 

Her hands fly to the back of his head, pulling him to her, ratcheting up the intensity. Their tongues tangle, and she grinds down onto him, feeling a surge of confidence at his ensuing moan. 

He plants kisses on her cheek, her jaw, her neck and _sucks_ there—she lets him, hoping there’s a mark tomorrow. 

Heartbeat racing, she feels his erection below her and wants—no, _needs—_ to move quicker. She shoves her hands under his shirt and, _god,_ caresses his firm body while they make out. She needs to _see_. Pulling his shirt off him, she deposits it on the couch, eyeing his rippling muscles appreciatively. 

His hands grip her thighs tighter, and her eyes lock on his. She licks her lips and crosses her arms, whipping her own top off. Logan’s gaze flicks straight to her chest, and she tosses her shirt behind her. They hear their spoons and the Rocky Road container topple over. 

“I know how precious your ice cream is,” Logan teases in a husky voice, as he kisses the swell of her breasts. “It’s gonna be a melty mess if you don’t put it—”

“Shut up.”

Veronica unclasps her bra, and… Logan shuts up, alright. 

* * *

Quickly towel drying her hair, Veronica places her laptop on the counter. Tightening the belt on her robe, she logs on to the Zoom link. She’s already a few minutes late but—worth it.

She puts on her earphones, and all five friends are already there, heckling her when she gets on.

“Well, look who finally decided to join us!”

Taking a little bow, Veronica quips, “You’re welcome!”

They launch into various accounts of their Friday nights—Hamptons, tech conference, Napa, date, screaming baby—and Veronica feels content to sit back and listen, sipping her coffee.

“Hey, Parker,” Lilly shouts, “How was the sex?”

Everyone bursts out laughing as Parker brings her hands under her chin, grinning wide. “Incredible! Two plus months of waiting for it—yes. Incredible.”

 _I know what she means._ Veronica lets her mind wander back to the steamy events in the shower just ten minutes ago.

“V,” Mac calls out. “What did you get up to last night?”

Veronica waves her hand noncommittally. “Oh, you know. Pizza, beer, ice cream and a movie.”

But Veronica doesn’t even finish her sentence before the girls scream. 

“Holy fuck!”

“Who is that?”

“He’s wearing a towel!”

“Hello, muscles!”

“Veronica!”

Whipping her head around, her bedroom door closes down the hall and she realizes Logan must have finally emerged from the bathroom, in view of the camera. She turns back to the screen, moving closer to try and hide her background in case he comes out again.

Biting her lip, she decides to evade. “I had to find another friend to hang out with, since all of mine ditched me.”

“Oh my god, Veronica,” Jackie pipes up. “Is that _Subway Guy?_ ”

Her friends all squeal, speaking over each other, trying to get Veronica to spill. 

“Girls, I don’t think Parker was the only one to dust off the cobwebs last night!” Meg giggles.

Flushing, Veronica covers her face with her hands, peeking through her fingers. 

“Sounds like last night really was written in the stars, Veronica!” Mac jokes, bobbing her brows, and Veronica sighs.

“Okay, okay. She won’t confirm or deny,” Lilly starts, gleam in her eye. “At least tell us, did that mouth you’ve been staring at for two months live up to expectation?”

The girls lose it, and Veronica groans. They rib her for the next five or so minutes, until Andrew needs Jackie’s attention and they all say their goodbyes.

Closing her laptop and taking out her earphones, Veronica turns back towards her bedroom. Her body is still thrumming from the shower sex, but she wants more. She’s insatiable with him.

Slowly opening her door, Logan lounges on her bed, reading a novel from her bookshelf. He’s fully clothed and—that just won’t do.

Quickly closing the book when he notices her, he leans back against the headboard with his arms behind his head. 

“I didn’t want to interrupt your time with your friends, so I hope you don’t mind that I got comfortable.”

She leans back against the wall. “You already got pretty comfortable last night, if I recall correctly,” she reminds him. 

His lips curve upward, and he leisurely scoots towards the edge of the bed, hopping up to walk over to her. “And this morning. Unless you forgot already.”

“How could I forget?” she breathes, his mouth inches from hers.

Threading his fingers through her damp hair, Logan pulls her to him. He kisses her thoroughly and then moves to give her neck attention, Veronica tilting her head to give him more access. As her breathing grows ragged, Logan starts moving lower. Kissing down over her collarbone, he moves fabric away for easier access. He slowly runs his hand down her chest, her ribs, her stomach, until he hits the robe’s belt knot and unties it. 

Veronica stands before him, gloriously naked, and he falls to his knees before her. Giving her a sultry glance, he hooks her leg over his shoulder and grabs her ass to stabilize her. She clenches her fists in his hair when his mouth descends on her. 

“Happy Palentine’s Day to me,” she moans, and feels Logan expel a hot breath of laughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you as always to my awesome beta, CubbieGirl1723. Thanks to JMazzy for SCHOOLING ME on the New York Subway system, and for basically plotting out the entire geographic aspect of this story.


End file.
